The Annoying Things About Having A Friend In Love
by darth spots and darth stripes
Summary: Sirius Black walks us through the annoying habits of a friend who could possibly be James Potter in love. Random drabble of Michelle.


A/N: This just popped up out of my head and straight onto paper A/N: This just popped up out of my head and straight onto paper. Here lie the random mumblings of my brain…

(and to those reading "Dealing With A Marauder" I _solemnly _swear that it _will_ be done soon. Very soon.

Summary: Sirius Black walks us through the annoying habits of having a friend (who just might be James Potter) in l-o-v-e."The Annoying Things About Having A Friend In Love"

It happens too suddenly, for one thing.

One day you're hanging with your best friend, and the next day he _leaves_ you hanging.

You wonder why this could be. Why did he leave you? Didn't he value the friendship?

You're a little teeny weeny bit frustrated.

(Teeny bit).

Then – you see the hazy eyes, lopsided goofy grins, eyelid flutters, unnecessary sighs, ridiculous drawings on any scrap of parchment possible… and this cannot be good. In fact, you can almost see love-hearts in his eyes where the pupils are usually located.

Not good at all.

Soon after, he confesses his "secret" (and not at _all _obvious) affections for a certain girl.

And now for the most exciting part: the ongoing obsession.

You hear lots of "Did you _see _her today?"; "She smiled, and I think it was at me!"; "Do you reckon I should ask her out… again?"; "That guy was totally looking at her. Do you think that guy was looking at her? He was looking at her. He must pay. Oh gosh, do I sound paranoid?"; "Is my hair nice? – no, I mean, _perfect?_"; "Oh… just look at her eyes…"; "Isn't she a-maaaay-zing?"

Literally every conversation is about her.

Quidditch: Out of the question. Yourself or anything to do with your life: uh-uh, buddy.

Which makes talking, all in all, rather dull.

And then – if you have a case of unrequited love, or say, if the girl _hates_ the boy and wishes to inflict various kinds of pain on him (which, if it could shut him up, wouldn't be so bad) – you're in for it. Big time.

You're in for several doses of angsty-friend, complaining-friend, annoyingly-perseverant-friend, insecure-friend, (who radically changes to) egotistical-friend and, you will experience in general: batty-crazed-mentally-issued-friend.

All friends we'd rather _not_ have.

He'll ask you for tips, advice, help and Merlin forbid – answers.

And as you try to hold some form of conversation – which is, of course, about _her _– he will zone out. Completely. _Nobody's_ home.

Weeks, months, maybe years pass by and at this point in time you wonder how much money it takes to bribe the girl into liking (or pretending to like) the friend.

Of course, upon suggesting this plan to the girl, you receive a mighty bitch slap – as it turns out, she is not "some kind of prostitute".

The next day at Quidditch practise, your friend will "unintentionally" peg a Quaffle at your head a little too hard. You've definitely lost some brain cells. He claims it was unrelated to the fact that the girl got annoyed at him earlier that day over the Prostitute Incident.

By this stage, you're wondering if its worth spiking her morning juice with a love potion, just to get him off your case. Apparently, you're supposed to be cupid. Too bad you never got the memo.

Your friend appears to be bi-polar; on the one hand he's a moping, horrible mess, and on the other he's singing in the shower like he's the happiest guy alive. If you thought "Wind Beneath My Wings" was bad to start with, having now heard your friend sing it, your idea of "bad" has been somewhat redefined.

And then – like a miracle – your friend _finally _gets the girl. Who knows how that happened. She now admits that she loved him the whole time. Bloody cow, she couldn't have conceded that ages ago?

They're together: happily ever after. And the constant irritation ends – for now.

A couple of days into the relationship, your days of bliss end, and your friend feels the need to tell you every little detail about their romance.

Every.

Little.

Detail.

What shampoo she uses…. How they "held hands for the first time" that day…

Smooshy, disgustingly sweet details which only a person in love can actually appreciate.

And now you're expected to be friends with the girl, too, because she's finally forgiven you for the Prostitute Incident.

So what happens now?

The annoyance continues.

The constant making out in inappropriately public places continues.

And "The Wind Beneath My Wings" is now a duet.

_**The end.**_


End file.
